squamous cell carcinoma

In a recent guest editorial that I penned for BioCentury, I referenced that a parent’s choice whether or not to vaccinate their child against the human papillomavirus (HPV) isn’t a “risk-free” choice. Every drug has risks – consider the following statement by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA): “although medicines can make you feel better and help you get well, it’s important to know that all medicines, both prescription and over-the-counter, have risks as well as benefits.” I would also point out that there are risks in forgoing a medication.

Let’s take a look at the HPV vaccine’s side-effects according to the prescribing information for Gardasil® 9 (Human Papillomavirus 9-valent Vaccine, Recombinant). The most common side effects include pain, swelling, redness, itching, bruising, bleeding, and a lump where your child got the shot, headache, fever, nausea, dizziness, tiredness, diarrhea, abdominal pain, and sore throat. These are adverse events disclosed by the sponsor (Merck & Co., Inc.) to the FDA from completed clinical trials of Gardasil 9. Since licensure in 2006, over 270 million doses of HPV vaccines have been distributed and the sponsors are obligated to report any new side effects to the FDA.

What’s that you say? You don’t trust the pharmaceutical industry? The Global Advisory Committee on Vaccine Safety (GACVS), an independent expert clinical and scientific advisory body that provides the World Health Organization (WHO) with scientifically rigorous advice on vaccine safety issues of potential global importance, first reviewed the safety data for HPV vaccines in 2007 and subsequently in 2008, 2009, 2013, 2014, 2015, and 2017. In each period, the GACVS examined various vaccine specific safety issues, such as links to Guillain-Barré syndrome (GBS) and other autoimmune safety issues. No other adverse reactions have been identified and GACVS considers HPV vaccines to be extremely safe. According to the WHO, there are now accumulated safety studies that include several million persons and which compare the risks for a wide range of health outcomes in vaccinated and unvaccinated subjects.

Early on, the GACVS was presented with signals related to anaphylaxis and syncope related to the HPV vaccines. According to the GACVS, the risk of anaphylaxis from HPV vaccines has been characterized as less than 2 cases per 1,000,000 doses, and syncope was established as a common anxiety or stress- related reaction to the injection. Anaphylaxis is a severe allergic reaction that needs to be treated right away with an epinephrine (adrenaline) shot. Anaphylaxis is rare, and most people recover from it. Syncope, also known as fainting, is a loss of consciousness and muscle strength characterized by a fast onset, short duration, and spontaneous recovery. It is caused by a decrease in blood flow to the brain, usually from low blood pressure. For these reasons, the prescribing information for Gardasil 9 recommends observation of the individual for 15 minutes after administration.

Next, let’s consider the risks of not getting vaccinated against HPV. Again, according to the prescribing information for Gardasil 9, the vaccine helps protect girls and women ages 9 to 26 against cervical, vaginal, vulvar, and anal cancers and genital warts caused by 9 types of HPV. Gardasil 9 also helps protect boys and men ages 9 to 26 against anal cancer and genital warts caused by those same HPV types. Accordingly, individuals who do not get vaccinated against HPV are at risk for the aforementioned cancers and genital warts.

In addition, the 9 types of HPV that infect the genital areas can also infect the mouth and throat (called oropharyngeal cancers). HPV is thought to cause 70% of oropharyngeal cancers in the United States, with HPV type 16 causing 60% of all oropharyngeal cancers. The HPV vaccine was originally developed to prevent cervical and other less-common genital cancers and has been shown in clinical studies to prevent cervical and other precancers. However, HPV vaccines could also prevent oropharyngeal cancers because the vaccines prevent infection with HPV types that can cause oropharyngeal cancers.

HPV vaccines were not available until I was age 38, which is well-beyond the upper age limit of 26 when the vaccines are considered effective. In late 2015, I was diagnosed with poorly differentiated, oropharyngeal squamous cell carcinoma, HPV type 16 related. My three treatment regimens thus far have included: chemoradiation, immunotherapy and currently chemotherapy.

Side-effects that Michael Becker has experienced from cancer and its treatment (click image to enlarge)

My diagnosis is terminal, so “death” would be the primary side effect from the disease that I would gladly forgo in favor of any of the aforementioned HPV vaccine side effects. Setting my grim humor aside for the moment, there are more than a dozen other side-effects that I have personally experienced to date from either cancer or its treatment (see accompanying image for details). And these side-effects don’t include others that I haven’t personally experienced, such as kidney damage.

I’m an advocate of HPV vaccination and strongly encourage parents to speak with a physician when it comes to deciding whether or not to vaccinate a child. The purpose of this blog post is to underscore that deciding not to vaccinate against HPV isn’t a risk-free decision. In my experience, the diagnosis of any one of the six cancers resulting from HPV infection is associated with plenty of important risks for parents to also consider.

The purpose of my blog and entries is multifaceted. Some are designed to entertain, while others focus on education and enlightenment for those suffering from cancer and the people who surround them. Others are simply updates on my disease for family and friends.

I don’t consider myself an optimist or pessimist, but rather a realist. Accordingly, I prefer to let the facts in my blog speak for themselves and let you, the reader, decide if the glass is half full or half empty.

For me, life is usually viewed in absolutes. Things are either black or white; rarely, if ever, shades of gray. And I like it this way…nice and neat. This is probably why uncertainty, which falls into the shades of gray zone, doesn’t sit well with me. Unfortunately, living with a terminal cancer diagnosis introduces a fair amount of uncertainty – almost from day one.

It starts with waiting for the initial diagnosis. Is it cancer or not? Usually this is a black or white analysis. The diagnosis of cancer then leads to a myriad of uncertainties. The patient wants to know details about the treatment options, their side effects and quality of life, and whether the potential for cure exists. Lots of gray zone issues suddenly appear.

Although clearly outside of my comfort zone, I’ve been able to successfully navigate the sea of uncertainties for the past two years with one notable exception: how much time do I have remaining? Or at the very least, how much time remaining where my quality of life allows me to function as a productive member of society?

Right now, life isn’t horrible. Sure, I suffer side effects from weekly chemotherapy treatment, such as loss of appetite and fatigue. And I lost my hair but save a ton of money on haircuts and shampoo. Nevertheless, I’m able to enjoy time with family and friends and keep busy with my mission to help raise awareness of the human papillomavirus (HPV), six cancers that are directly linked to HPV, and the available vaccines that could prevent such cancers for others in the future.

Enduring weekly chemotherapy is made easier given the fact that my tumors decreased in size according to my last imaging procedure. Exactly what the tumor regression means in terms of extending my life is unknown. Reality check – published scientific literature still favors that celebrating the New Year isn’t a likely event for me.

However, every patient is different – and there is one absolute truth in life: no one knows exactly when or how they will die. While perhaps the exception versus the norm, we’ve all heard dramatic stories about people living longer than originally expected. My realist nature makes me reject such anecdotes, but it does allow me to consider the fact that progress in treating cancer is advancing at a rapid pace and perhaps my existing treatments will buy me just enough time to receive some new exciting approach that keeps my disease in check.

In the interim, my greatest challenge is what to do with the “space between.” I’m talking about the period between now and when I eventually die, which could be measured in as little as one, two, or three months or as many as several years. No one knows for sure.

For example, I could start to write a new book. Although having recently gone through that process, it is a tremendous investment of time and focus away from spending quality time with family and friends. While it could be a worthwhile sacrifice, I just couldn’t bear the thought of embarking down that road again without knowing that I had sufficient time to finish it.

My other passion, photography, is made challenging since I really don’t know how much energy or how I’m going to be feeling on any given day. This makes scheduling photo sessions weeks in advance to allow adequate preparation time a risky proposition at best. For example, I never could have predicted ending up in the hospital on three separate occasions in July/August (including a trip to the intensive care unit). While life has been quite calm as of late (thank goodness…) there is always the chance that something else is lurking around the corner.

Besides, I was already able to complete two significant bucket-list items this year with the publication of both my memoir A Walk with Purpose and large format, high-quality, coffee table photography book, Strength, Confidence, & Beauty. In the near future, could I really top what I’ve already accomplished in each area?

Equally important to projects that produce legacy materials of a life well-lived, there is that pesky task of providing income to help support my family. I haven’t quite found an appropriate place on my resume for “terminal cancer patient” and I suspect few employers would find that an attractive attribute. On the flip side, freelance work or part-time positions might be workable solutions.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not laying on the couch every day pondering the “space between” and wallowing in depression. I’ve been keeping plenty busy promoting my books and taking advantage of the plethora of amazing media outlets that express an interest in helping me with my HPV awareness mission. Perhaps that is simply how I’m meant to fill the space between?

At first, I thought if I could simply touch one person’s life through my efforts then I made a difference. But I’ve been inundated with messages from family, friends, and complete strangers who share personal stories about having their children vaccinated for HPV as a direct result of my efforts. Is there anything else I could do that would be as gratifying?

If you or a loved one is affected by cancer, I’d love to hear how you deal with the space between. Rather than messaging me directly, please feel free to comment on this post so that others can benefit from your shared experience.

It’s been a few weeks since my last blog post, so I wanted to provide a brief update. The good news is that life has been rather uneventful – no trips to the emergency room, no new side effects, etc. Let’s face it, we were due for a break!

Last week was not only the Labor Day Holiday but also a scheduled break from chemotherapy to allow my blood counts, etc. to recover. As a result, as of Monday morning I was feeling better than any time in recent memory. My appetite has been good and my energy level afforded us an opportunity to take our puppy Humphrey with us to walk around a local art fair this past weekend.

This week, however, I’m back to week #1 of my treatment schedule starting with a doublet of chemotherapies (paclitaxel and carboplatin). For me, the carboplatin results in greater side effects, particularly stomach upset, decreased appetite, and fatigue. My typical four week treatment “cycle” looks like this:

Before this week’s chemo appointment, I had time and energy to visit with another one of my social media connections for the first time (@BursatilBiotech). She traveled from Argentina to New York with a relative for vacation and we had arranged a brief meeting in the morning while she was in town.

@BursatilBiotech and Michael Becker

My next chemo break falls during the first week of October. At that time, I’ll have my periodic imaging procedure to see if the cancer is continuing to respond favorably to the treatment. Based on improved air flow to my lungs, I’m hopeful for some continued good news.

In the meantime, I’ve been keeping busy with my mission to raise awareness for the human papillomavirus (HPV), its direct link to six cancers, and the available vaccines that can prevent HPV. For example, my guest editorial on the topic appears in this week’s issue of BioCentury and is freely available to view on their website by clicking here. In addition, last Thursday I did a television interview with CURE Today and you can view the first segment on their website by clicking here. I’m so very grateful to these and other media outlets that have provided me with a platform to advance my mission!

Most importantly, today is another gift that I will truly treasure…as I get to celebrate my youngest daughter’s birthday. Happy 17th birthday Megan!!

Despite the hectic backdrop of late, I’ve been busy researching treatment options for patients like me with incurable squamous cell carcinoma of the head and neck (SCCHN). My first inclination was to pursue another immunotherapy, as there are a lot of clinical trials with novel immunotherapies and combinations currently recruiting. With my disease progressing, however, I felt that perhaps a more aggressive approach backed by data was warranted.

For example, one viable option is the chemotherapy-based “EXTREME” regimen with 5-fluorouracil (5-FU), cisplatin or carboplatin, and the monoclonal antibody Erbitux® (cetuximab). Initially, I discounted this option because 5-FU-based regimens can be associated with significant toxicities. Nonetheless, a multicenter phase III trial in SCCHN demonstrated a 36% longer median overall survival using the EXTREME regimen versus chemotherapy alone (10.1 months vs. 7.4 months, respectively). It was the kind of data-based treatment I was seeking, but I was really against receiving 5-FU.

One of the many nasty side effects from 5-FU is palmar-plantar erythrodysesthesia (PPE), also known as hand-foot syndrome (HFS). There are currently no treatments or preventions for HFS, which is characterized by tingling in the palms, fingers and soles of feet and by erythema, which may progress to burning pain with dryness, cracking, desquamation, ulceration and oedema.

I learned a lot about HFS while serving as CEO of VioQuest Pharmaceuticals. The company was developing a 1% uracil topical formulation to prevent HFS. Uracil is a naturally occurring substrate that directly competes with 5-FU for the enzymes that metabolize 5-FU to its toxic metabolites. When applied topically, the concentration of uracil in the skin greatly exceeds the concentrations of 5-FU, thus blocking the formation of 5-FU’s toxic metabolites. Unfortunately, there haven’t been any updates on the product’s development status since April 2010 according to ClinicalTrials.gov.

When we arrived at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center (MSKCC) late Sunday evening, I had already decided that if it came down to the EXTREME regimen as my best option – I would simply forgo further treatment, contact hospice, and let things progress naturally.

Fortunately, my medical oncologist at MSKCC, Dr. David Pfister, suggested replacing 5-FU with weekly paclitaxel, resulting in a chemotherapy regimen known as PCC (paclitaxel, carboplatin, and cetuximab), that has been found to be efficacious and well-tolerated in patients with SCCHN when used as induction chemotherapy. As a result, 5-FU and paclitaxel can be viewed as somewhat interchangeable, but paclitaxel offers a more favorable toxicity profile.

Unlike the two chemotherapeutics, cetuximab is a chimeric human-murine monoclonal antibody (mAb). MAb therapy, the most widely used form of cancer immunotherapy today, is a form of “passive” immunotherapy that often does not require the patient’s immune system to take an active role in fighting the cancer.

Cetuximab targets and binds to epidermal growth factor receptors (EGFR) that are found on the surface of many normal cells and cancer cells. Doing so stops the cell from continuing the signaling pathway that promotes cell division and growth, effectively stopping the cancer by stopping the cancerous cells from growing and multiplying.

I’m a big believer in the power of immunotherapy and believe that my recent treatment with the experimental M7824 (first-in-class, bispecific fusion protein of an avelumab-like antibody linked to two molecules of TGF-beta trap) had a positive effect on my disease. More importantly, there may even be synergy between what M7824 has done so far in combination with the PCC regimen. Even if the PCC regimen only shrinks my lung tumors, the reduction in disease burden could help future immunotherapy treatments be more efficacious.

Starting treatment with the two chemotherapeutics (paclitaxel and carboplatin) on 7/18/17 at MSKCC

Having plenty of time to weigh the future treatment options while the bleeding issue with my chest tube was being addressed, I decided that Dr. Pfister’s proposed PCC regimen made a lot of sense. Much to my surprise, I was able to start treatment with the two chemotherapeutics (paclitaxel and carboplatin) on Tuesday and return home that evening. Next Tuesday I will receive my first loading dose of cetuximab.

Regarding the bloody drainage from my chest tube referenced in my prior post, I had a liter of fluid drained using a vacuum-like device connected to my catheter and the drainage returned to a healthier apple juice color. I was started on Lovenox again while continually monitoring the fluid output through the tube looking for the color to change back to bloody. Fortunately, the color remained the same and it looks like Lovenox wasn’t the likely culprit. I’m back on Lovenox and so far, so good.

I never thought I’d say the phrase “I’m back on chemotherapy.” But here I am, continuing the fight. Why? Because Lorie slept at a hotel on our second night in NYC to get some much-needed rest and my mind went drifting down memory lane as I sat alone in the patient room at MSKCC. I thought about all the good times we shared, the family we raised, and how much we love each other. I cried and cried. Suddenly, I knew that if chemotherapy could give me even just one more day with her, it would be worth the drug’s side effects.

And yes, there is still the hope of doing better and living longer than expected. The chances are remote, but not zero. More updates soon…

Earlier this week, Lorie and I made our biweekly visit to the National Institutes of Health (NIH) for my infusion of the experimental agent M7824. The two day trip was uneventful and included a variety of imaging and other diagnostic tests, including an ultrasound of my spleen and a chest x-ray to monitor the pleural effusion in my left lung.

Fortunately, all of the tests came back fine and I was cleared to receive my regular infusion of M7824. As with all the previous treatments, there were no adverse reactions and we returned home later that evening.

However, with the month of July rapidly approaching, I can’t help but start to feel quite anxious. This is due to the published results from Bristol-Myers Squibb’s “CheckMate 141” phase 3 trial with Opdivo® (nivolumab), an anti-programmed death 1 (PD-1) monoclonal antibody also known as a checkpoint inhibitor. In that study, 361 patients with recurrent squamous-cell carcinoma of the head and neck (SCCHN) whose disease had progressed within 6 months after platinum-based chemotherapy were assigned, in a 2:1 ratio, to receive Opdivo every 2 weeks or standard, single-agent systemic therapy (methotrexate, docetaxel, or cetuximab). The primary end point was overall survival.

Treatment with Opdivo resulted in longer overall survival than treatment with standard, single-agent therapy. The median overall survival was 7.5 months (95% confidence interval [CI], range 5.5 months to 9.1 months) in the Opdivo group versus 5.1 months (95% CI, 4.0 months to 6.0 months) in the group that received standard therapy.

Recall from prior posts that M7824 is a completely novel, first-in-class, bispecific fusion protein of an avelumab-like, anti-PD-L1 antibody linked to two molecules of TGF-beta trap. Therefore, I always viewed M7824 as a “potentially” superior alternative to Opdivo given its added mechanism of action, hence my strong interest in participating in the M7824 clinical trial.

Assuming for a moment that M7824’s treatment effect is at least comparable to Opdivo, and considering that my disease recurred around December 2016, an expected survival of 7.5 months would translate to the July/August 2017 timeframe.

To be fair, an apples-to-apples comparison of Opdivo and M7824 isn’t possible. However, the results of Bristol-Myers Squibb’s “CheckMate 141” trial serve as a contemporary data set for checkpoint inhibitors in the treatment of recurrent SCCHN and are definitely something that I keep my eye on.

Lorie and Michael Becker enjoying ice cream in Bethesda, MD

Barring any surprises, I’ll continue biweekly treatment with M7824 and then repeat imaging in July to see whether or not my disease has progressed. In the meantime, I’ll continue to savor simple moments like enjoying ice cream on a warm summer evening with my wife (see photo).

As evidenced by the extensive discussions following my biopsy from last Friday, a tumor is indeed a very complex structure. It comprises cancer cells and stromal cells, tumor infiltrating cells—both cells of the immune system and cells not by convention being of the immune system, as well as an extracellular matrix mainly of proteins and carbohydrates.

Following my recent CT scan, the hope from obtaining core biopsies from one of my lung nodules was to get a better sense of the cancer at a cellular level, which may help shed some light on whether or not treatment with M7824, a completely novel, first-in-class, bispecific fusion protein is working (see prior posts for more details).

In particular, the presence of immune system cells (T cells, or T lymphocytes) in tumor biopsies and their potential impact on prognosis have been studied for decades. T cells are a type of white blood cell that circulate around our bodies, scanning for cellular abnormalities and infections. Broadly speaking they can be divided into two different types, “killer” CD8-positive T-cells and “helper” CD4-positive T-cells. CD8-positive T cells are critical mediators of adaptive immunity. They include cytotoxic T cells, which are important for killing cancerous or virally infected cells, and CD8-positive suppressor T cells, which restrain certain types of immune response.

Despite contributions by other immune cell subsets, CD8-positive T cells have emerged as the predominant effector in most cancer immunotherapy settings¹. Accordingly, many immunotherapeutic strategies (including checkpoint inhibitors, such as anti-CTLA4, PD1, and PD-L1 antibodies) are dedicated to stimulating, enhancing and maintaining responses by tumor-reactive CD8-positive T-cells.

Favorable outcomes have been demonstrated in patients where high numbers of CD8-positive cells were found at the tumor site in patients with head and neck cancer, breast, colorectal cancer and also for others solid cancers. In one study, head and neck cancer patients whose tumors were densely infiltrated by CD3-positive and CD8-positive T cells had a significantly longer overall survival (OS) and progression-free survival (PFS) compared with patients whose tumors were poorly infiltrated².

While there seems to be a consensus that CD8 infiltration is a good prognostic marker in most malignancies analyzed, however, the impact of CD8-positive T cells on clinical outcome may differ and is difficult to quantify. Not only is the type of T cell important, but also its location, and moreover the specific phenotype and function of those cells in the particular environment.

Nonetheless, based on the preliminary results from my recent tumor biopsy and other factors, it appears that there is sufficient evidence of immune system activation in the vicinity of the tumor to indicate that the experimental agent M7824 may indeed be performing as we hoped. Accordingly, I am in 100% agreement with my doctor’s recommendation to continue on the therapy and will receive my next infusion this coming Tuesday at NIH. After a few more cycles of therapy, another CT scan will be taken in the future with the hope of demonstrating that the recent tumor growth was from treatment effect “pseudo-progression” rather than true disease progression, which has been previously described with immune checkpoint inhibitors like M7824.

Following Tuesday’s news that several of the tumors in my lungs actually increased in size and a new spot appeared on my spleen, Lorie and I headed back to the NIH on Thursday for more tests to help better guide subsequent treatment decisions.

The first test was a CT image of my brain taken Thursday mid-afternoon, which would be used to rule out the spread of cancer to that particular organ. Patients with brain metastases are often excluded from clinical trials due to historically dismal survival and concerns about blood brain barrier drug penetration. Fortunately, we learned the next morning that this test came back negative for cancer progression to the brain.

The second test on Friday was an image-guided biopsy of a single lung nodule to help guide between cancer progression and inflammation as the reason for the increase in size seen on the recent CT scan on the lungs. In my case, a core needle biopsy was performed, which is less invasive than surgical biopsy and doesn’t require general anesthesia.

Early Friday morning, Dr. Elliot Levy, an interventional radiologists at NIH trained in radiology and minimally invasive procedures, met with us first to discuss the procedure. He pulled up a cross sectional image of my lungs, which showed several of the suspicious nodules.

CT scan of my lungs, showing target nodule for biopsy with two lines representing potential needle angles for biopsy. Other nodules within the lungs circled in red, which could be more dangerous to biopsy.

One in particular was located in the pleural cavity – normally a thin membrane that lines the surface of the lungs and the inside of the chest wall outside the lungs. In the bottom of my left lung, however, fluid built up in the pleural cavity where one of the nodules was located. Dr. Levy explained to us how this nodule could be biopsied without puncturing the lung lobe, which can result in a longer hospital stay.

Sometimes, a collapsed lung (pneumothorax) occurs after a lung biopsy. As a precaution, a chest x-ray is taken after the procedure to check for this before sending the patient home.

After meeting with Dr. Levy, I was escorted back to the biopsy procedure room and placed on my right side on a table. I was consciously sedated, produced by the administration of two medications: a single dose of fentanyl given intravenously that can produce good analgesia for 20-45 minutes, and midazolam, which has a fast-acting, short-lived sedative effect when given intravenously, achieving sedation within one to five minutes and peaking within 30 minutes. The combination produces an altered level of consciousness that still allows a patient to respond to physical stimulation and verbal commands, and to maintain an unassisted airway. Midazolam is a primary choice for conscious sedation because it causes patients to have no recollection of the medical procedure.

Dr. Levy worked out of sight behind me to perform the biopsy, as he went through my back side. I was fairly nervous going into the procedure, but everything went extremely well with absolutely no pain or unexpected events due to the sedation.

After recovery, a subsequent chest x-ray confirmed that the lungs were indeed fine after the biopsy and we left NIH shortly thereafter to head back home to Pennsylvania.

Thumbs up; recovering after biopsy procedure at NIH

The preliminary results from the biopsy should be available early this week. If the biopsy shows ample evidence of immune stimulation, an argument could be made to stay on the current drug and that the “pseudoprogression,” or the initial radiologic appearance of an increase in tumor burden, might actually be inflammation and followed by tumor regression. A remote possibility in my type of cancer, but worth confirming.

Should the biopsy results instead demonstrate increased tumor burden, then we could consider switching to another investigational agent or even chemotherapy to shrink the tumors before proceeding again with one of the immunotherapy clinical trials.

Lorie and Michael Becker in front of cherry blossoms

Determined to stay positive, Lorie and I took advantage of the warm spring day on Thursday to stop outside NIH and snap a picture in front of some cherry blossoms. Unfortunately, snow and cold returned on Friday for the commute home.

During today’s appointment with my oncologist at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center (MSKCC), we received disappointing news that the biopsy of my chest lymph node contained the same cancer cells (squamous cell carcinoma) as the original tumor in my tonsil. This means that the cancer has spread to distant sites and, unfortunately, cure is now no longer an option.

I was already familiar with the synergy between radiation and other forms of therapy, especially immunotherapy. Coincidentally, we were exploring such synergies back at Cytogen Corp with the company’s skeletal targeted radiotherapy being combined with a poxvirus vaccine being developed by Dr. James Gulley at the NIH at the time. Small world.

As the trial is randomized, I may or may not be one of the patients to receive the added radiation therapy. However, both arms of the trial receive Opdivo – so I get an active drug in recurrent head and neck cancer in either case.

There has been a great deal of enthusiasm for checkpoint inhibitor products, such as Opdivo. However, in the recurrent head and neck cancer study by Bristol-Myers Squibb, the median overall survival was 7.5 months for patients that got Opdivo. The other patients that received standard therapy options (cetuximab, methotrexate, or docetaxel) had a median overall survival of 5.1 months. True, there were some ~20% patients that had durable responses with Opdivo, but the vast majority (80%) did not have a durable response.

The good news is that Opdivo is a form of immunotherapy and doesn’t have many of the severe side effects associated with both chemotherapy and radiation. Accordingly, it is expected that I will be able to continue working and not have any major issues throughout treatment, as they are rare. However, Opdivo can cause your immune system to attack normal organs and tissues in many areas of your body, and can affect the way these organs work.

Very long day, so I’ll keep this post brief. Lorie and I stayed overnight in NY yesterday due to the early procedure scheduled this morning at MSKCC. My appointment was at 9:15am and I was scheduled for the operation to start around 10:40am. However, my slot got delayed and I didn’t head into surgery until around 2pm!

Michael D. Becker in the recovery room after a bronchoscopy

The good news, if there is any, is that thoracic surgeon Dr. Park was able to get sufficient tissue from the suspicious lymph node via the bronchoscopyapproach and he didn’t need to do the surgical resection to go after the other nodules in my lungs.

The biopsy results will take a few days, but it is clear from the surgeon that the node they biopsied didn’t look “healthy.” Given that disease progression to the lungs is relatively common in advanced head and neck cancer, in my opinion the biopsy will most likely confirm spread of the original cancer to the lungs. Or, it could just be an unrelated new lung cancer just showing up now.

I hope to have more to report in the New Year but for now am relaxing in the passenger seat as Lorie drives us home. She’s such a trooper and I know my cancer returning isn’t easy for her.

Of the +30 posts on this patient blog, this has been one of the hardest to write.

In the prior entry, I referenced that my next PET scan was scheduled for early February 2017. However, my radiation oncologist wanted to keep the PET scans consistent at six month intervals that resulted in moving the PET scan up to December 14 (last Wednesday). My prior PET scan was in June 2016.

Unfortunately, the latest PET scan did not contain good news. Multiple new spots consistent with malignancy showed up that were not visible six months ago. This includes activity in lung nodules, subcarinal/left hilar lymph nodes (near the trachea), and mild activity around the tonsils and in the region of the oral cavity. The results were confirmed by a subsequent CT scan this past Saturday.

In the world of medicine, however, cancer doesn’t exist until the abnormal cells are viewed under a microscope. Accordingly, I will soon need to have a biopsy taken from one or more of the suspicious areas highlighted on the PET scan. However, I don’t need to wait for that procedure and the subsequent results to know the outcome.

For head and neck squamous cell carcinoma (SCC), which was my initial diagnosis, pulmonary metastases are the most frequent and account for 66% of distant metastases¹. This information, combined with the imaging results, leaves very little chance that the biopsy results will be benign.

Michael D. Becker Awaiting PET Imaging on Dec 14 at MSKCC in NYC

The consultation for the biopsy procedure has been scheduled for late this week and the actual biopsy procedure still needs to be scheduled. If the biopsy confirms that cancer has indeed spread to my lungs, the next step will be a meeting with my oncologist to discuss treatment options, which will likely include recent advances, such as biologic agents and immunotherapies (e.g., checkpoint inhibitors).

This afternoon, I received a call from my ENT confirming what I had already known or suspected – based on the biopsy results I had cancer. In particular, squamous cell carcinoma. Doctors describe cancer by its grade (G), which describes how much cancer cells look like healthy cells when viewed under a microscope. If the cancerous tissue looks very different from healthy tissue, it is called poorly differentiated or a high-grade tumor. The cancer’s grade can help the doctor predict how quickly the cancer will spread. In general, the lower the tumor’s grade (such as G1 or G2), the better the prognosis. In my case, unfortunately the cells were poorly differentiated (G3 or G4).

The cancer was in the enlarged lymph node, but that was only one of the locations where it had spread. We needed to know where the cancer originated. Based upon a review of the various markers evidenced in the pathology report, I grew increasingly concerned that the cancer started in my lungs. The next step was to perform a PET/CT scan to reveal the primary source of the disease.

At the physician’s office, the CD took a while to load on his laptop. I suggested that while we were waiting for the images to load, perhaps we could discuss the accompanying radiology report. I knew that the radiologist would provide a written assessment of his/her findings, so I wanted to get straight to the results. My physician, however, excused himself for a bit since the CD was taking a while to load and to me, this was another red flag of bad news to come. When he returned a short while later, the discussion centered around the enlarged lymph node and the fact that it “may” show evidence of necrosis at the center. I was more certain than ever that I had cancer and based on everything I read it was likely squamous cell carcinoma. The real question was where the cancer originated – my lungs? The next step was to biopsy the enlarged lymph node to obtain more information through a procedure known as fine needle aspiration.

The physician injected novocaine directly into the enlarged mass prior to inserting a needle twice to extract fluid from the area. He remarked that not a lot of fluid was easily obtained, which helped rule out to some extent the possibility of a cyst. Once again, all arrows pointed to cancer. The novocaine injection was the most painful aspect of the procedure, with the minor exception of some discomfort towards the end of the second needle stick. The physician laid out a series of glass slides on the counter an applied the contents from the syringe onto them all. That was it; now to wait for the pathology report. Much to my chagrin, the doctor indicated that it could be up to a week to receive the report. More waiting! I wasn’t sleeping at night, so I was prescribed Ativan (lorazepam) to take before bed.

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Welcome to my journey and my journal. Aside from the fact that I find writing cathartic, one purpose for this blog is to keep family and friends updated following my diagnosis with Stage IV oropharyngeal cancer in December 2015. An additional benefit is that some of the content may be a helpful resource for others dealing with head/neck cancer. Lastly, I hope that by sharing this experience freely, I can help create greater awareness for HPV and its link to six cancers with the hope that preteen vaccination rates improve. The blog posts are in reverse chronological order and go all the way back to November 2015.